A student of the bible must also be a student of politics. Today’s “spirituality” which disavows politics chooses a fantasy land more like Tolkien’s Middle-earth, where the good guys always win. It bears little resemblance to ancient Palestine and the real world of our Bible. Our Roman Catholic lectionary also attempts to simplify the complexities of the Bible by cutting and pasting passages, and sometimes that helps us to understand what is happening. Unfortunately, in today’s passage it skews the story.

The reader misses in the seven missing verses the confrontation between a frightened, vacillating king and his more conscientious, devout subjects. They remind King Jehoiakim that Jeremiah’s prophecies of doom are neither untraditional nor unfamiliar. In fact they’ve heard the same sorry predictions from the prophets Micah and Uriah, and the good King Hezekiah let them live. (We could add the name of Isaiah.) But Jehoiakim was not mollified. He arrested and executed the fugitive Uriah. He would have done the same to Jeremiah but Ahikam protected him.

Someone has said, “Politics is life.” And, to embrace life in all its beauty, we must be willing to live in this political world where everyone has needs, fears, expectations, opinions; and many have power. The creation of the Bible itself was more like making sausage than most weekday morning Bible groups.

The young man Jeremiah, idealist, iconoclast, poet and misunderstood prophet, felt deeply the disappointment of politics. He believed with all his heart that he spoke only the word of God, and many people respected him for it. The office of prophet, like today’s ministry, was recognized and honored by many people. But they didn’t necessarily follow his advice.

The word of God confronted the city of Jerusalem as it confronts us today. It comes from many voices with varying opinions and degrees of authority. Some will claim infallible authority, only to find that claim carries little weight. The right choice is rarely so obvious, and we must always pray to God for an obedient spirit, clarity, courage and confidence.

And even when you make the right choice after careful discernment, and with the assurance of moral and spiritual authority, it may be a hundred years before anyone agrees with you.

In his book, Upon the Altar of the Nation, a moral history of the Civil War,HarryS.Stout
describes the origins of the American Civil Religion. This “religion” was
created during the American Civil War, as both sides made enormous and
unexpected sacrifices. Steeped in the Christian religion, with little influence
from Catholic, Jewish, Native American or Muslim religions, Americans compared
the “blood bath” to a baptism. From the horror something good had to be born.

Lincoln’s
Gettysburg
Address expressed and gave voice to this new religion. The nation emerging
from the Civil War will have demonstrated to the world its belief “that all men
are created equal.” The reborn United States
has a mission, not unlike the Christian mission, to the whole world. It will
promote freedom, or liberty. Its creed will prophesy God’s blessing upon a
democracy of equals, which necessarily leads to prosperity.

Its government must be “of the people, by the people, for
the people,” because, as ThomasJefferson
believed, an enlightened nation of fully-franchised and educated, citizens will
invariably make the right choices. Nor will that nation “perish from the earth.”
Baptized in the blood of these honored dead, it will endure until the second
coming of Christ.

150 years later Americans still believe in our "American Exceptionalism." We believe we must be a city on the hill for the world; and that our principles of freedom and equality, which have brought us unprecedented prosperity, are the envy of the world.

I once attended a lecture at LutherSeminary in Saint Paul,
Minnesota. I was the only Catholic in a
room full of Lutheran ministers. The lecturer declared, “You can talk to any Catholic
and you will discover that he knows what few Americans understand: the church
is two thousand years old and the United States
is only two hundred years old.”
I replied, “Guilty!”

Catholics may be loyal citizens but we never quite buy the American
Civil Religion, which brings me to today’s scripture passage from Jeremiah:

Our hero is in trouble again. He has said what no one
should say, that God will not save Jerusalem
against the Babylonian siege. Because of their sins, God will let city and nation fall just as other
nations have fallen. We enjoy neither exceptionalism nor special blessings, although we have the
temple, the priesthood, the law, the covenant and the promises!

Of course the beleaguered citizens were enraged by his
prophecy. Surrounded by the Babylonian army with no help from Egypt,
their only hope was to maintain "hope against all odds," and Jeremiah
spoke only of doom.

Unfortunately, he was right. The Babylonian army captured
the city and installed its own puppet government. When that government rebelled
a dozen years later, the city was attacked a second time, and leveled. The devastation
was terrible.

Out of the wreckage of that sovereign nation, which would
not reappear until 1948, the Jews kept their scriptures and traditions. In many
ways their prophets sounded as strident then as some Christian preachers sound
today. Their advice was taken no more seriously than it is today; although, like our priests and ministers, they were accorded religious respect. History proved them right
about their pessimistic predictions; but every nation collapses sooner or
later.

More important than their fulminations, we learn from the prophets the
intense, passionate, even jealous love God has for his people. They would let no one forget the covenant:

I, the Lord, am your God, who
brought you out of the land of Egypt, that place of slavery. You shall not have other gods
besides me. You shall not carve idols for yourselves in the shape of anything
in the sky above or on the earth below or in the waters beneath the earth; you
shall not bow down before them or worship them. For I, the Lord, your God, am a
jealous God, inflicting punishment for their fathers' wickedness on the
children of those who hate me, down to the third and fourth generation; but
bestowing mercy down to the thousandth generation, on the children of those who
love me and keep my commandments.

The prophets proclaimed the infinite tenderness and the
terrible jealousy of God. In that the prophets were never wrong.

SaintMartha is a ready friend to anyone who thinks she cannot be a saint. Martha comes off badly in the only two stories we have about her, and yet she was dear to Jesus and a true saint – despite what appears to be a crabby personality. Hey, not everyone can be Ms. Personality! There is plenty of room in heaven for you too, and me.

In today’s gospel story, Martha again challenges Jesus, “Had you been here my brother would never have died.” To understand this gospel we should first understand something about story telling. Every good story needs a villain, or at least a foil. The character of Martha has to lack imagination to make the unimaginable more astonishing when it actually happens.

This eleventh chapter of Saint John’s Gospel illustrates Jesus’ teaching in the fifth chapter: Amen, amen, I say to you, the hour is coming and is now here when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live.

What can that mean? So let’s have a story:

First, we need someone who is dead to be raised. And what better person than Jesus’ friend and disciple, Lazarus? Remember Lazarus? He died in SaintLuke’s gospel too, in the parable about the rich man and the poor man. A true disciples, he’s got this death-to-self role down pat.

Now let’s bring in some mourners to accentuate the drama: the silently grieving Mary and the not so silent Martha. We’ll use her to challenge Jesus, “Where were you when we needed you?” She represents us in our more difficult moments.

She is also the pragmatic woman with both feet on the ground; she keeps her wits when others might do something foolish, like opening the grave of a man who has been four days dead. Phew! Bad idea!

And that’s because any reasonable person – or any unreasonable person, for that matter -- cannot imagine what Jesus will do. We need her to be surprised.

So Martha is Jesus’ foil, but she is no fool. She knows truth, goodness, mercy, and love when she sees Him. Like the merchant who sells everything to buy the field with buried treasure, Martha invests her all in Jesus.

Let’s face it, in His presence we’re all foils. We make his goodness look spectacular; his innocence, splendid; his mercy, superabundant. If we sometimes look like fools we’re wise enough to be glad and grateful so close to Goodness.

The prophet Jeremiah may be the first self-identified individual in literary history. He experienced a calling to be not only a prophet, but a solitary prophet without the support of a prophetic guild. Ordinarily, if a prophet must stand up and rebuke his contemporaries, he wants someone to back him up. The people will look for “the testimony of two or more witnesses.” Why would anyone listen to one peculiar crackpot when no one agrees with him? Jeremiah never found such support. He must speak the words that God gives to him alone. His loneliness is palpable, almost pathetic: Woe to me, mother, that you gave me birth! a man of strife and contention to all the land! I neither borrow nor lend, yet all curse me.

Three thousand years later, in a nation that cultivates individuality with all its boldness, energy and creativity we should remember how much it costs. The teenager who wants to stand against her family and her peers will know the agonizing, crushing loneliness of Jeremiah. He was probably a teen when he started prophesying. The scientist or engineer who comes up with a brilliant new idea will meet opposition from the establishment. They will mock him and his notions as crazy or idiotic. New ideas often make progress only when the old generation has retired or died. The next generation, driven by an impulse to make a difference by being different, welcomes and utilizes new ideas – until they are challenged by the next generation.

Deep in the woods

Becoming oneself is a lonely task, and yet vital to the spiritual life. As each one negotiates the life we’re given, society hands the person a role, with its own list of expectations. “You are a husband, father, mother or wife and here is what we expect of you.” Or, “You’re a grandmother now; here is what grandmothers are supposed to do. Here is how they feel about their grandchildren; here is how they treat them; and here are the sacrifices they make for them.” Refusing or even modifying the role can be painful. Perhaps grandmother decides she wants to travel, go back to school, start a new career, or take up some artistic expression. “Well, that’s very nice, so long as you don’t compromise your duty to your children and grandchildren.” The individual who thinks she has finally attained the life and situation where she can make her own decisions and experience her own uniqueness may be astonished by loneliness. She may have to cultivate a whole new set of relationships, a new “support system,” if she wants to continue. The Christian, stepping out of the expectations of family, career and (very likely) church, who is willing to pay the price, will discover new depths of reality. Her life will be painted with darker and brighter tones. Her feelings will be more intense; her experience, more palpable; and her faith, more dynamic.

Daisies

Jeremiah may have been the pioneer in the territory of individuality, but it’s still an uncharted wilderness of perilous adventures and stark beauty.

In the long history of humankind, thousands of cities have
appeared and disappeared. Their cultures, customs, rulers, religions, symbols
and gods vanished with them, lost forever. Periodically archaeologists dig them
up and speculate about how the citizens used to live. How did they experience
life? What values did they teach their children? How did they survive so long? What
finally overcame them?

Sometimes we know they were conquered by another city;
sometimes we have no clue. In some cases the climate changed, as when the towns
in Greenland disappeared after five hundred years of
habitation. The people of CahokiaIllinois apparently ran out of firewood. Disease, famine, earthquakes, fires, floods, glaciers and, of course, war
have erased ways of life their people thought sacred and immutable. North
America, with its severe climate, has seen more upheaval than most
continents.

So what happened to Jerusalem in the sixth century before Christ? The Babylonians captured and destroyed the city. They deported everyone who might be useful; murdered, raped and maimed many; took all the livestock and food supplies, and left only the poorest in the ravaged land. As Jesus would say many years later, "The meek inherit the earth."

The prophets had long predicted Jerusalem's fall if the city were not faithful to God.
Jeremiah acknowledges:

We
recognize, O Lord, our wickedness,
the guilt of our fathers;
that we have sinned against you.

But naysayers are always predicting doom. It doesn’t take divine
inspiration to do that. Nor does it take much inspiration to say, “I told you
so!” And Jeremiah doesn’t say it with much
conviction.

Someone is bound to ask, “Were we that bad? Did the city,
despite the piety and devotion of so many poor, helpless people who were also
destroyed in the carnage of war, really deserve this severe punishment?”

The question is not unfamiliar to the Bible, Jews or Christians. Even as we teach our
children that God will reward goodness and punish wickedness, we hear the objections
of the righteous Job and the irascible Qoheleth.

Or, in the words of Sportin Life, from the Gershwin Brothers’
Porgy and Bess:

It ain't necessarily so It ain't necessarily so The t'ings dat yo' li'ble To read in de Bible, It ain't necessarily so.

Jesus seems to have it both
ways in the Gospel according to SaintLuke:

At that very time there were some
present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled
with their sacrifices. He asked them, ‘Do you think that because these
Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other
Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as
they did.
Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders
than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all
perish just as they did.’ (13:1-5)

So we should pursue goodness, justice and mercy! The Lord has promised reward for the just and retribution for the wicked. But we cannot expect a cause-effect
relationship here. Hard times fall on the good and the bad alike. Between the two there is always the mystery of God’s justice,
mercy and forbearance. We just don’t know when or how God will move.

This is maddening to the scientific mind that wants
explanations and answers now. But it is comfort to sinners like you and
me, who pray with gratitude for the time we have to turn away from sin and live
by the gospel.

For, as close as the loincloth
clings to a man's loins,
so had I made the whole house of Israel
and the whole house of Judah cling to me, says the Lord;
to be my people, my renown, my praise, my beauty.

Few in the church today might think of our Holy
MotherChurch as God’s
underwear. But we can allow Jeremiah the
distance of a different climate, geography, culture and twenty-six centuries;
and try to understand what he is saying.

First we hear that God’s people – think Church
– is so dear and beloved and close to God, that we cling to God to intensely,
we are like intimate apparel.

We enjoy an extraordinary relationship with God. Chastened by
our own history and intimidated by the ideology of multiculturalism, Christians
might hesitate to ponder that mystery. I might ask myself “Why should I be so
special?” as I hear others demand, “Who do you think you are? God’s gift to
mankind?”

But it is impossible to discover one’s true identity, one’s
own “name,” without acknowledging “The Lord has called me by name.” We have the
prophet Jeremiah to thank for that awareness. He
experienced his individuality as blessing and as curse, as a singular privilege
and a terrible burden.

Before I formed you in the womb I
knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I
appointed you. (Jeremiah 1: 5)

Likewise, a church – parochial, diocesan or universal –
cannot describe its mission without claiming a blessing that belongs uniquely
to itself. Failing that, it fails altogether.

Secondly, the loincloth Jeremiah
describes was apparently not covered by outerwear, as we cover our underwear;
so a person might sport a pretty fashionable loincloth and draw the admiring
attention of the crowd. Today, if anyone flaunts his or her pretty underwear,
he or she had better be three years old or younger.

Once again acknowledging the distance of time and culture,
we hear that God wants his loincloth --his Church -- to be so beautiful that we
are his renown, praise and beauty.

How do we do that? It’s not so difficult. We begin by
considering the beauty and goodness and wonder and joy and loveliness of God.
As SaintFrancis
said, “You are good, all good, supreme good.” Secondly, we consider our own
sins. When I “do my own inventory,” as they say in 12-step meetings, I can only
consider how richly God has blessed me and how often I have proven myself
unworthy of such love. I am hardly worthy to be a member of this church; and if
I belong to this church it is not for their salvation but for mine.

If anyone happens to see the renown, praise, and beauty of
God in me or my church, I know it is nothing I contrived.

The readings this Sunday invite us to consider the power of
prayer. I hesitate to use the word power, because it is such an
important word in the American lexicon. Power is used to sell machinery,
everything from computers to cars.

When I think of prayer I think of our covenant with God, and
who teaches us better than Abraham, the father
of the covenant, and Jesus, the Covenant
Incarnate?

Covenant implies relationship and a nation of lonely people should
contemplate the power of lasting, dependable, honest relationships.

The word covenant comes to us from the ancient near-east,
from Mesopotamia to Egypt
and Greece. Emperors
and kings made covenants with one another, often with an exchange of family
members. “My daughter will marry your son and we will be forever bound to one
another in their covenant of love.” That system prevailed well into modern
times.

If the “love” of those married couples was often compromised
by concubines and mistresses, the pact their rulers had made still meant
something.

The covenant was intended to last forever, like the
marriage. And the language of their agreements, from what I understand, often
used words like love, gratitude, and fidelity. Divorce was
out of the question since the marriage bound families, peoples and nations
together. The relationship was stronger if the immigrant spouse used his or her
influence in the court. A young wife, for instance, might be the mother of the
future king. She was always a force to be reckoned with.

In any case, conversation was the key. Like Abraham
in this story from Genesis, the parties kept talking until they had an
agreement. If one or the other party didn’t like the agreement, he was still
there in the court, influencing how it was carried out.

In this story from Genesis, Abraham
has a hidden agenda. I don’t think he is especially concerned about ten or
twenty “just men” in either Sodom
or Gomorrah. His wayward nephew Lot
is there! So, although the cities are destroyed, Lot and
his family escape. Good work, Abraham!

In our “dealings” with God, we have to keep talking, like
the persistent neighbor in Jesus’ parable. “If he does not get up to give the visitor the loaves because
of their friendship, he will get up to give him whatever he needs because of
his persistence.”

When we pray, we repeatedly say, “I will
not quit this friendship with you, my God. I love you with all my heart. I trust
you; I believe in you. And I know you want nothing but good for me and mine. Thy
will be done! But – if you’ll take a bit of advice from one with severely
limited vision – here’s what I think you should do....”

And God listens to our prayer. We have, as the Letter to the
Hebrews teaches, an advocate before the throne of God, and he is our own
brother, son, friend, and savior, Jesus.

It is good too, to remember the prayer of Mary.
Along with all Israel,
she prayed for a messiah, and God could not deny what Mary
wanted. Her will is completely attuned to the will of God. Whatever God wants, she
wants; whatever she wants, God wants! We watch Mary
remaining “in relationship” with God even on Calvary. She
would not abandon her Son or her God. if her human mind could not comprehend
what was happening, she still believed.

Like you and me, Mary has
cast her lot with God. With her ancient ancestor, Joshua,
she would pray, “As for me and my house, we will worship the Lord.”

Put not your trust in the deceitful words:"This is the temple of the Lord!The temple of the Lord! The temple of the Lord!"

When I was a boy in the 1950’s, Sister warned us against presumption. “Don’t presume that God forgives you or loves you and will let you go to heaven!” She urged us to continually greater effort in prayer and good works. Despite her best efforts the sin remains with us today, under the heading of “entitlement.” If anything it’s worse today as we have become a society not of workers but consumers. After fifty years of being told, “You have a right; you deserve it; you have earned it.” it's hard to remember that, in fact, I’ve earned nothing and deserve less. What rights I have are gifts of God. I must remember daily, everything is gift. A gift is neither entitlement nor right. I met a Veteran recently who worried that he did not deserve the care he was receiving. Of course he had little choice as he could afford nothing else, and needs extensive medical care. I assured him that a grateful nation wants to give him this care, and his response should not be anxiety but gratitude. “Just keep saying thank you to every doctor, nurse, technician and housekeeper.” I told him.Saint Francis claimed no privilege for himself except the Privilege of Poverty. He wanted to be like Christ in every way. The Lord who was born in poverty, raised in exile, lived on the streets, died on a cross and buried in a borrowed grave invited his servant Francis to share his poverty. Consequently Francis was often hungry and cold as he passed days and nights in the out-of-doors with no more protection from the elements than the shade of trees and the cover of clouds. Whether he baked in the hot sun or shivered through the cold nights, whether he itched with bugs or filth, he thanked God, “You are good, all good, supreme good!” He knew God’s goodness as few others have not despite of but because of his contempt for every creature comfort. When Jerusalemites cried, “The temple of the Lord!” they thought that God must certainly protect that pile of stone. He seemed to have no choice! So long as they hovered close to the temple, their God must protect them. They had already forgotten how the Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant, wresting it from the Hebrews. In his own time, with no help from the Hebrews, God allowed it to wander back to the Hebrew camp under the impulse of oxen. Everything is gift!As Christians, we are entitled to nothing except the fate of Jesus – his poverty, abandonment and misery -- for which we are grateful. To be with him – even at Calvary, outside the gates of the city where there is no temple –would be true delight.

Yesterday we heard a parable about the frustration and disappointment every disciple of Christ meets, and about the promised great reward. Despite all appearances, God’s victory is assured.

In today’s gospel, the parable is “broken open” and becomes a metaphor. Saint Matthew’s gospel reflects the experience of the early church, its triumphs and its heartaches. Their questions are ours: "Why do some people hear the gospel and decline the invitation? Why do others pursue it with all their hearts? And which am I?"Some years ago I visited a priest friend on his death bed. We fell to discussing an acquaintance, a young priest who suffered alcoholism and, despite repeated treatment, seemed unable to recover. My friend, whose face was eaten with cancer, said, “You know? I am the luckiest man alive!” “Why do you say that?” I asked. “Here’s our young friend. He’s young, talented, smart, good-looking and ordained; but he cannot get the (twelve-step) program. “The Lord showed me the way and I followed it. I don’t know why. I am the luckiest man alive.”

Today's gospel explains why some people fail the course. Some have heard the good news but were immediately dissuaded from believing by contradictory voices around them. They could not or would not believe Goodness appears in our world. Others were excited by the gospel. They were "into it." They bought all the paraphernalia of bibles and rosaries and wwjd bracelets. They thought, "This is where it's at!" But when real life caught up with their fad, they burned out quickly.A third group prospered for quite some time, but they could not stop worrying and fretting about unimportant things -- What am I to wear? What am I to eat? Where will I live? Failing to maintain an intense focus on prayer and penance, to pursue good and avoid every form of evil, they bore no fruit. They just didn't make a difference. Finally, there are some who stay the course and bear great fruit, a hundred-, sixty- or thirty-fold. This is a challenging gospel because it doesn't provide a sure-fire evaluation to measure our fidelity. This is the gospel you heard of, that comforts the afflicted with the promise of abundance, and afflicts the comfortable with the threat of sterility.

You might be interested to know I take almost all the photos for this blog with an ordinary Kodak Easyshare camera.

We know little of Saint Mary of Magdala from the gospels but that has never stopped imaginative individuals from creating a marvelous tradition of stories about her. One of the latest was Dan Brown’s novel, in which he wove two ancient legends together: that of Mary Magdalene, the supposed wife of Jesus; and the Holy Grail, the original chalice from the Last Supper. Mr. Brown said she is the Holy Grail! Despite its silliness, that’s pretty cool!
But we can hardly blame romantic authors for their fantasies; there are plenty of inferences in the scriptures to suggest that God should have a wife. In today’s reading from the Book of the Prophet Jeremiah, we hear: I remember the devotion of your youth, how you loved me as a bride, following me in the desert, in a land unsown.
The prophets Hosea, Isaiah, Ezekiel and Jeremiah imagine Jerusalem as the Bride of God. It is a marvelous image and very appropriate. So when the Son of God appears among us, who is his bride? Saint Paul told us: it is the Church.
But some people want a more exciting answer. They cannot imagine a robust fellow like Jesus not having a wife and, presumably, semi-divine children, and semi-semi-divine grandchildren, and so forth; as the strain gets weaker.
To that Jeremiah would say, Be amazed at this, O heavens, and shudder with sheer horror, says the Lord. Two evils have my people done: they have forsaken me, the source of living waters; they have dug themselves cisterns, broken cisterns that hold no water.
The apostolic tradition of our church is creative; it enjoys many legendary stories of the saints. But it’s disciplined; it despises any stories that shortchange the gospel. They are broken cisterns that hold no water. Saint Paul warned us about such imaginary interpretations when he wrote to his disciple Timothy: For the time will come when people will not tolerate sound doctrine but, following their own desires and insatiable curiosity, will accumulate teachers and will stop listening to the truth and will be diverted to myths. (2 Timothy 4:3-4)

Meanwhile, we should not neglect the reliable stories of St Mary Magdalene. Saint John describes her as that devout soul who continues to love and honor Jesus after all hope is lost. She cannot keep herself from visiting his grave. Whatever common sense may say about the failure of his mission and the debacle of his end, she must still attend his ruined corpse. Even when she sees two brilliantly shining angels sitting in his tomb she still mourns over Jesus.
It is ironic that a no-nonsense woman like Mary Magdalene has inspired so much nonsense. Like her, we should be satisfied with nothing less than God.

We have been reading passages from the writings of the
prophets Hosea and Isaiah; today we turn to Jeremiah.
Like that of the other prophets, this is not a success story. The only
successful prophet was the fictitious Jonah, and he succeeds despite his best
efforts!

Anyone who wants to be Christian
should be prepared for failure. Can the cross mean anything else to anyone who
looks hard at it?

Yes, we sing of its triumph – Lift High the Cross! – but we
cannot ignore its earthly significance. Jesus triumphal
approach to Jerusalem, which had
been prepared for months if not years, and the near-riot as he entered the city
-- ended in catastrophe, when he was dragged from the city a few days later, and
crucified.

So when we hear today’s gospel we hear Jesus’
promise of success despite frustration, disappointment and failure: some seed fell on the path, and birds came and ate it up. Some
fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because
the soil was not deep, and when the sun rose it was scorched, and it withered
for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and
choked it.

Obviously farmers in those days did not have sciences,
schools and technologies to develop better methods. After saving some of last
year’s crop for this year’s sowing, they broadcast the seed on the ground, then
plowed it under. A harvest of twenty-fold was considered abundant.

Jesus promises a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.

Saint John Duns Scotus explains the action of God this way. Ordinary
human action will always have mixed results. It will be a blessing and a curse,
coming as it does from sinful human beings. But when one acts with the Spirit of
God, its blessings are manifold. They continue into eternity! The disciple
might not live in this world long enough to see how fruitful her efforts were. But
she should have faith nonetheless, because God has everything well in hand.

As the psalmist said:

Those who sow in tears will reap
with cries of joy.

Those who go forth weeping, carrying
sacks of seed,
Will return with cries of joy, carrying their bundled sheaves.

In the good old days Sister told us to confess all our sins,
including missing Sunday Mass or eating meat on Friday, regardless of our
excuses. Even if you were undergoing open heart surgery on that particular Sunday,
you should confess it – just in case.

Eventually your confessor would tell you to ease up a bit. God
surely would not hold that against you. Open heart surgery, being lost at sea
or stranded in outer space – although not listed as exemptions in the Book of
Life, were probably sufficient reasons for missing Sunday Mass. Your weary
confessor may even have said he didn’t want to hear about it anymore. You should
believe in God’s mercy.

I know; I’ve been there. I also know that Sister trumps the priest
every time and you probably still confess that you missed Mass because the dog
opened the gas cap on your car and lapped up all your fuel.

One time I forgot to celebrate the Sunday Mass in a
neighboring parish. I had promised the pastor I would be there but was
distracted by an event in my own parish. The next week, when I heard
confessions at that church, I heard all about it!

But there was something to be said for that scrupulous
mentality. If only one thing. It gives us the opportunity to experience God’s
mercy in the Sacrament once again. Our God “delights in clemency” and we
delight in God’s forgiveness.

Recently, I was supposed to celebrate Mass in Clarksville
on a Friday morning. I would have been there but I was stranded in HoustonTexas, waiting for a morning flight. I should
have called the pastor to tell him I couldn’t be there but it took me three
hours to get to the motel and the power went out in an electrical storm and I was
thinking “Today is Friday” but it was only Thursday. And so forth. In short, I forgot
all about it.

I had a pretty good excuse. But I still owe the people who
went without Mass that Friday morning an apology. And they will delight in
showing clemency.

The Sacrament of Penance, despite its recent neglect is
still with us. It is still one of the most beautiful treasures of our Catholic Church. Whether we deserve it or not, regardless of our reasons or excuses, we celebrate the Sacrament with our God, taking His two hands in our own and dancing for joy.

Who is there like you, the God who
removes guilt
and pardons sin for the remnant of his inheritance;
Who does not persist in anger forever,
but delights rather in clemency,
And will again have compassion on us,
treading underfoot our guilt?
You will cast into the depths of the sea
all our sins;
You will show faithfulness to Jacob,
and grace to Abraham,
As you have sworn to our fathers
from days of old.

Photo: The Hore Monastery, an ancient ruin below The Rock of Cashel, Ireland. Click on it for larger picture.

The prophet Micah describes a loud, angry lover’s quarrel within the setting of a courtroom. The parties are desperately trying to understand one another, and each thinks the other is wholly unreasonable. We hear a kind of resolution in the closing lines, words that have become very familiar to us:You have been told, O man, what is good,and what the Lord requires of you:Only to do the right and to love goodness,and to walk humbly with your God.

As simple as that sounds, we have a hard time getting there. The passage begins with the Lord’s voice, as described by the prophet. God will drag his people before mountains, hills and foundations of the earth to present his case against them. The jury of all creation will surely understand and sympathize with God.But then God turns and angrily demands of his people, “What have I done to you? How have I failed you?” After everything God has done for his people – which he briefly recounts -- how can they be so pigheaded?The people reply with increasing irrationality. What does God want? A burnt offering of a year old calf? A thousand rams and rivers of olive oil? My first born son? Is there no pleasing this God?Which of us has never been swept along in a quarrel like this? Which of us has not appealed to the walls and the furniture to witness her complaints?Micah accurately describes both a lover’s quarrel and the dilemma we face as we engage in this covenant with God. We’re willing to give so much, but no more. In dealing with God we remember the advice of William Butler Yeats, “Never give all your heart.”But, unfortunately, we will give all our hearts to the wrong gods – to lovers, spouses, children, parents, pleasures, work, despots, patriotic passions and so forth. These will take all we give and return nothing. But the one who deserves our total worship, who alone is worthy of such worship, who alone can make our supreme sacrifice worthwhile – that one we neglect.This passage from the Book of the Prophet Micah ends abruptly as the Lord speaks gently and reasonably, with understanding and affection: Here is what I want, only do the right and love goodness and walk humbly with your God.

The readings today should find deep resonance in the American
heart. The principles of justice and mercy are summed up in the practice of
hospitality.

In the days of Abraham and Sarah,
given the long stretches between one city and the next and the dangers of the
road, travelers kept a strict code of ethics whose fundamental principle was
hospitality. Abraham was such a traveler, a
merchant with an enormous caravan. He and his party traveled from Mesopotamia
to Egypt. Encountering
friend, stranger or enemy the traveler greeted him with elaborate courtesy – as
we see in today’s first reading – and invited him to dine with him and his
party. If the person were an enemy – that is, a member of a tribe hostile to
one’s own – he should accept the invitation honorably. They might discuss the
dangers of the trade route, weather conditions, and political developments. This
information was far more important than any animus the travelers might have
between them.

In today’s first reading we hear how the Lord rewarded Abraham
and Sarah’s hospitality. He promised them a son,
although Sarah was well passed her child bearing
years. Next week we will also hear of Abraham’s
boldness as he negotiated for the life of his wayward nephew, Lot.
His extraordinary courtesy had earned him that privilege also. Although he
could not save the towns of Sodom
and Gomorrah, he got what he
wanted.

Today’s gospel reading also describes the marvelous
hospitality of Saints Martha and Mary to Jesus
and his disciples. We should not be distracted by Martha’s
momentary indiscretion as we recall how pleased Jesus
was to dine in their home.

Martha, Mary
and Lazarus welcomed the Lord to their home and he honored
them with his divine presence. Martha recognized
his physical needs for food while Mary tended
his spiritual need for an undistracted listener. Notice how Mary
remained silent. Even when her sister attacked her she listened and said
nothing. She let Jesus be her champion and
savior. These women knew “the way to a man’s heart:” good food and rapt
attention to his every word.

Like the ancient Hebrews who escaped from slavery, Americans
should remember our origins as we welcome friends, strangers and enemies to our
country. The word “alien” has no place in our lexicon. Hospitality welcomes the
diversity of languages, religions, philosophies and national origins that are
among us already, and those the future brings.

As one who used to direct a retreat center, I know how
demanding Lady Hospitality can be. Our guests often needed things I could
barely provide, if at all. The handicapped required provisions of every sort:
automatic door openers, elevators, special diets, higher toilets, lower
lavatories, ASL signers, Braille printing,
and so forth. There is simply no end to her demands. My guests wanted to go on
retreat and they had every right to make a retreat, if only I could provide for
their needs.

And yet Lady Hospitality provides rich, astonishing
blessings for everyone who welcomes her. If you can give her nothing more than
a glass of cold water, and you do it with eager, willing generosity -- she will
shower gifts upon you.

As the American ideal, hospitality eradicates racism even
as she honors the talents, history, hope and courage of African-Americans. She teaches our children many languages enabling them to move freely about the
country, feeling welcome and at home in all neighborhoods. She heals our
sick in her hospitals and shows reverence to the men, women, and children in our
prisons. She reverences every religion and helps each devotee to obey the
laws of our land, even as they challenge the laws to be more reasonable.

And finally she blesses us as she has for the past 235
years with the blessings of all nations. If we are the envy of all the world, it is because we serve our Lady Hospitality. She – not oil, gas, coal or
corn – is still our greatest national asset.

Dear Reader,

A homily is only a brief comment on the readings or some other mystery of the Mass. Hopefully it is nourishment. Occasionally it might provide "food for thought," although that's too much to ask of a daily reflection.

I have found this exercise helpful for my own spiritual development; I hope it occasionally inspires you.

I like to remind myself often, "Ken, people don't come to Mass for the homily. They come to worship God."

If you're interested, you may find more of my reflections on a particular day -- say "Friday of the Fourth Week of Easter" -- by entering the Lectionary number (e.g "283") into the search bar at the top left of this page. That might retrieve one or more posts for that particular day of past years. I sometimes go back to see if what I wrote several years ago still makes sense.

About the author

I am a Conventual Franciscan priest living at Mount Saint Francis, IN. Since my ordination in 1975 I've served in Ohio, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Louisiana and Kentucky, plus a brief time in Melbourne Australia. At this time I am one of several chaplains at the Veterans Administration Hospital in Louisville, KY.
I enjoy working out, poetry, reading, writing and conversation.
I am happy to be a Franciscan, living with ten other friars here. We are engaged in retreat, parish and hospital ministries, but our primary ministries are daily prayer and community. We strive to live in the peacefulness of our God.